for [b]QDeathstar[/b]
POEM 1
Curl up
Protect yourself
Your head
Your Heart
your Being
The onslaught
Push forward
one step
Each moment a lost one
Nothing to sink into
Nothing to become
The torrent continues
Breathe. Recall the Reason
But death, ever present. cutting
Each moment a thief
stealing your soul
steeling your soul
POEM 2
Open door, a room crammed with furniture.
People packed in, squirming salmon in a small pond.
Large dogs pacing, panting, sniffing, climbing on and off furniture.
Voices scolding, arms crossed tight.
Scent of turkey and gravy mingle with wet dog and dry dog food.
The oppressor, fear. A life sacrificed, mine.
Open doors, tables spread out in expansive spaces.
Warm smiles, arms spread wide in welcome greetings.
Great windows floor to ceiling let in soft autumn light.
Glasses clinking, cozy fire crackling.
Smells of roast beef and fresh baked bread fuse with apple cider and scrumptious pecan pies.
The choice is made.
POEM 3
Please step away from the door
this train is about to depart
if you have no destination in mind
there is no end to this line
the world outside my window
blurred with a thickening frost
standing waves of moving places
imposed and distorted my thought
Please move your bags aside
the doors cannot close
don't contemplate those needful things
and surrender to all your woes
I saw distant conviction
A dilapidated structure
chemically stained with human regret
resonating as it ruptured
Please remain seated
I think the conductor is lost
he was reaching for a map
and pressed the emergency stop
born and bred a thundering steed
I was forged with fire
I ride alone down these tracks
leaving behind what you desire
YOURS QDeathstar
Attrition:
Of words bounced off
me and on to you.
We aren't aren't saying playing
until we do. after.
We've crafted careful outs -
snarky innocents.
We are always right
I've asked her and she asked you.
We all agree we are clever.
Your words bounce off me
and into your skull
like a bullet.
Pull the trigger.
But it's not about you.
Nothing More Mediocre
NO FURTHER COMMENTS
P.S. "Mother language enlighten my roads to wisdom."
"....It is not the reader who is responsible for deciphering the authors intent..." Some people's nvolvement in poetry is totally inappropriate, authors or critiques.
POEM 1
Curl up
Protect yourself
Your head
Your Heart
your Being
The onslaught
Push forward
one step
Each moment a lost one
Nothing to sink into
Nothing to become
The torrent continues
Breathe. Recall the Reason
But death, ever present. cutting
Each moment a thief
stealing your soul
steeling your soul
POEM 2
Open door, a room crammed with furniture.
People packed in, squirming salmon in a small pond.
Large dogs pacing, panting, sniffing, climbing on and off furniture.
Voices scolding, arms crossed tight.
Scent of turkey and gravy mingle with wet dog and dry dog food.
The oppressor, fear. A life sacrificed, mine.
Open doors, tables spread out in expansive spaces.
Warm smiles, arms spread wide in welcome greetings.
Great windows floor to ceiling let in soft autumn light.
Glasses clinking, cozy fire crackling.
Smells of roast beef and fresh baked bread fuse with apple cider and scrumptious pecan pies.
The choice is made.
POEM 3
Please step away from the door
this train is about to depart
if you have no destination in mind
there is no end to this line
the world outside my window
blurred with a thickening frost
standing waves of moving places
imposed and distorted my thought
Please move your bags aside
the doors cannot close
don't contemplate those needful things
and surrender to all your woes
I saw distant conviction
A dilapidated structure
chemically stained with human regret
resonating as it ruptured
Please remain seated
I think the conductor is lost
he was reaching for a map
and pressed the emergency stop
born and bred a thundering steed
I was forged with fire
I ride alone down these tracks
leaving behind what you desire
YOURS QDeathstar
Attrition:
Of words bounced off
me and on to you.
We aren't aren't saying playing
until we do. after.
We've crafted careful outs -
snarky innocents.
We are always right
I've asked her and she asked you.
We all agree we are clever.
Your words bounce off me
and into your skull
like a bullet.
Pull the trigger.
But it's not about you.
Nothing More Mediocre
NO FURTHER COMMENTS
P.S. "Mother language enlighten my roads to wisdom."
"....It is not the reader who is responsible for deciphering the authors intent..." Some people's nvolvement in poetry is totally inappropriate, authors or critiques.